A sweet story

I wrote those last two poems ages ago. Sometimes, when I don't feel like I have anything to say, I find I can always seem to fall back on prose. I'm not sure why. Sometimes, it's like a different language to me.

A sweet true story I heard...

A friend of mine said that while she was raising her youngest son he was a tender hearted boy. When he was being punished, he would often cry in his room. But to show his mother that he loved her dispite his punishment, when he would come out, he would ask her to wipe his tears away. Which I think is quite a humble thing for a child to do, especially for a boy.

Years later, my friend went to visit her son and a situation occured in which she was in the wrong. As she was apologizing to her now adult son, she started to cry. He asked her to "hold on" and left the room. When he came back, he was holding a tissue in his hands and began to wipe away her tears as a sign of his forgivness towards her.

I was really moved by that. Showing tenderness and forgiveness towards others seems to be so much overlooked in our soicety because of our pride. Yet I wonder how much more peace we would have in our lives if we sacrifically lived this way more for others. It's just a thought.